


Diplomatic Immunity

by TheCheerfulPornographer



Series: Valhalla Blues [6]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: Cultural Differences, Future Fic, Light Bondage, M/M, Science Fiction, Suit Porn, and a tiny bit in the first too, angst in the first chapter, like way way future, porn in the second, sort of OCs, they're reincarnated okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-20
Updated: 2012-08-02
Packaged: 2017-11-10 08:19:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCheerfulPornographer/pseuds/TheCheerfulPornographer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ravi learns that breaking the rules isn't always a bad thing.  Tey learns that he might be capable of carrying on a lasting relationship.  And a good time is had by all.  </p>
<p>(Except for that one unfortunate guard.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This probably won't make any sense if you haven't read the epilogue of Valhalla Blues.
> 
> Tldr: Ravi is Phil Coulson and Tey is Hawkeye. They get themselves reincarnated, about a thousand years in the future. Ravi is an ambassador on his first assignment, and Tey is a young starship pilot. They are introduced by Steve Rogers, who is still around, and they instantly hit it off.
> 
> This story is set about 4 months after that.
> 
> [Chapter soundtrack.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k_0nROFZDvQ)

_Uh-oh._

There are still voices coming from Ravi's apartment. Tey stops, and hesitates outside the door. 

That's really not a good sign; Ravi was supposed to be done with the day's meetings an hour ago. If they're still conferencing, that means that things aren't going well. Which means, in turn, that Ravi will be in a bad mood. 

Tey gives a mental sigh. He was feeling pretty good after his evening workout, and hoped that Rav might have time to... hang out.

_The work comes first,_ he reminds himself. Ravi's job is Important, with a capital "I". Tey knows this, and he really tries hard not to be a child about it. Still, lately it just seems like...

He sighs again and pushes the door open, keeping as quiet as he can.

"General Karci, if you would just consider..." Ravi doesn't look over. He's wearing what Tey privately calls his "ambassador face", calm and extremely courteous, but Tey can see that his fists are clenched beneath his desk.

Before he can finish his sentence, the red-faced man on the meeting-screen cuts him off. "The security of the Ambassador and his party is our highest priority, Admiral, I assure you," he states. 

Tey's no expert in diplomatic protocol, but he's pretty sure that ignoring Ravi and addressing Admiral Rogers instead is an intentional slight. _What a douche._

Tey suddenly feels a strong desire to punch the General right in his skinny red face.

Admiral Rogers is doing his best for Ravi, repeatedly deferring to his opinion, but Karci runs right over him time and time again. They seem to be discussing security arrangements for the Welcoming Gala, the event at which the Ambassador will be formally introduced to the Su'o.

Tey inwardly groans. _Not the gods-damned Gala, again._ This event has been the bane of his existence for the past week, and he was hoping to be able to ignore it for just one night.

"...And those are the guards that we will post," the General says, after rambling on for another few minutes. Tey can tell straightaway that the setup he's describing is woefully understaffed. There are holes in that security perimeter that a child could sneak through! 

"General, I'm concerned that..." Ravi tries again to cut in. Tey admires his ability to keep his face calm and his voice pleasant, even under the steepest provocation. Tey would probably be yelling obscenities by now.

Karci once again ignores Ravi. "Thank you all for your time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've important business to see to." The General nods once, stiffly, and the meeting-screen goes dark. 

As soon as the camera shuts off, Ravi's face cracks open like a plaster mask, twisting into an expression of rage. He slams his fist down on the desk, hard enough to make the things on it jump. "Gutter worm!" he mutters at the empty screen. "May a thrice-diseased skathi fuck your father's mouth!" Ravi drops his head into his hands, rubbing at his temples.

As something of an insult connoisseur, They can't pass up this one. "What's a skathi, and why would one be fucking someone's father?" he asks innocently. 

Ravi jumps and twists around in his chair, looking vaguely guilty. "Oh, ah, sorry about that. It's a sort of small marsupial on Seta Prime. Feeds on corpses, and sometimes does other things to them as well," he explains. "It's considered one of the ugliest mammals in Twelve Systems. And it spreads lots of diseases. Definitely more than three."

"Yeah, okay, that sounds like Karci, then." Tey pushes away from the doorway where he is leaning, dropping his gym bag on the floor. He makes his way over to Ravi's chair. "Hello, by the way. Would you like a shoulder rub?"

"Oh, gods yes." Encouraged by Ravi's enthusiasm, Tey starts to squeeze and massage his shoulders, digging his fingers into the muscle as hard as he thinks the other man can take. Ravi lets out a pornographic moan and slumps forward, laying his head in his arms.

"Want to talk about it?" Tey asks, to distract himself from the other places that moan is sending his mind. _Later,_ he tells his own dick sternly, before it can get too excited.

"Eh," Ravi starts, and then trails off into another moan as Tey hits a particularly tense knot. Tey smiles to himself, and presses harder. After a minute, Rav collects himself and says, "It's just the same things I've been complaining about since we got here. I'm sure that you don't want to hear it yet again."

"The age thing?"

"Yeah." Ravi shakes his head, and his muscles tense all over again. Tey frowns and starts over. 

He wishes there was some way that he could help, but all that he can really do is try to help relieve the stress for a moment. The rest is all on Ravi.

Apparently the Su'o culture places an incredibly high value on age, moreso than any other aspect of a person. Their current Prime Minister is 86 years old, and Tey hasn't seen a member of government who looks younger than 60. In their culture, 25-year-old Ravi wouldn't even be eligible to vote or marry for another 5 years. 

Ravi, who is quite the linguist, has explained to him that this emphasis on age is built into the very structure of the Su'onni language. There are three different pronouns in Su'onni, all of which are gender-neutral and solely based on age. After 30, everyone is referred to as "maa'ri", which basically means "citizen". At 50 they become a "sum'ri", which means "honored teacher". And at 70, Su'o gain the title of "asum'rri", which means something along the lines of "source of highest wisdom".

When Tey asked him what people were called before they were 30, Ravi just shrugged and said, "They aren't."

What this all boils down to is that, to the Su'o, Ravi is barely a human being. And yet here he is, the official Twelve Systems ambassador, assigned to lead the negotiations between them and the Sanchee, their ancient enemies. 

Tey really doesn't envy him, at all.

"Why couldn't I have been given a nice, simple, posting for my first assignment?" Ravi groans, "You know, somewhere peaceful and easy, like Nippon, or Montara? But no, I just _had_ to be the only person around who was fluent in Su'onni, so of course I got stuck here." He looks up at Tey. "I don't even like Su'onni! It's an awful language! It sounds like someone coughing! I only picked that course in college because it fit around my honors schedule!"

"You're doing a good job." Tey feels at a loss for what to say, how to help the situation.

He feels that way a lot, around Ravi.

Tey finishes up his shoulder massage, leaving Ravi slumped against the desk. He walks over to his bag and starts to strip out of his dirty gym clothes, leaving them scattered on the floor wherever they land. (Officially, Tey is staying in his own quarters aboard the Excelsior, his baby. Unofficially, well — most of his clothes are here.) 

"Hey, Tey?" Ravi is watching him. Tey smiles to himself and slows down as he shimmies out of his workout pants, bending over and giving Ravi a little show.

"Yes?" he replies.

"Will you wear your hand-bows to the party?"

_Ah, damn. Here we go._ So much for his attempts at redirection.

"They just absolutely refuse to staff the event with an appropriate number of guards," Ravi says. "And I'm 90% sure it's simply out of arrogance and not malice, but that won't matter one bit if someone decides to try a kidnapping, or worse. I'll wear my sleeve-knives, of course," he continues, "but I can't really get away with too much more than that. It certainly couldn't hurt for my date to have weapons on his person, especially ones that nobody knows about. You know, just in case."

The hand-bows are Tey's own invention, born from his fascination with one of the oldest forms of ancient Earth weaponry. When folded up, they look like two innocuous strips of wood and polymer wire, strapped onto Tey's forearms like some kind of strange bracelet. They're completely invisible beneath the sleeves of any jacket, and, because of their primitive construction, they're undetectable by modern weapons scanners. But all Tey has to do is press a hidden switch in a particular way and suddenly two cross-pieces spring out, the wire stretches tight, a bolt slides up and locks into place — and in less than a second, he has at his disposal a small but powerful single-shot crossbow. 

A single shot might not sound like much, but smaller things have tipped the balance in some of the battles from Tey's past. So it makes perfect sense for him to wear them. 

There's just one problem.

Tey sighs and flops over onto the bed, not meeting Ravi's eyes. Staring up at the blue tiled ceiling, he says, "You're still assuming that I'm going."

Ravi flops down beside him and trails his fingers down the front of Tey's chest, exactly how he likes it. _Oh, that's not fair,_ Tey thinks.

"Tey." Ravi's voice is full of significant inflections.

Tey tries to keep his breathing steady, despite what Ravi's hands are doing. "What?" he demands.

"Tey, come on, please. I still don't understand why you don't want to go..."

"Dammit. I've _told_ you..."

Suddenly Ravi's hand is drawn away. Tey bites back a cry of protest. Ravi is rolling over, sitting up, turning away from Tey. He crosses his arms. "Do you want me to go with someone else?" he demands. "Is that what you want? Because I could name at least five crew-members right now, both male and female, who I'm sure would say yes. Should I go ask Margarethe Han? She keeps _looking_ at me during our cultural briefings, you know." And just like that, they're back in the argument. 

Well, fuck it. If Ravi's going to go _there_... 

Tey's temper, never far from the surface, boils up. His jaw clenches, and his skin feels hot. "You know what? Maybe you should do that," he says, staring at Ravi's back. He watches Ravi's shoulders stiffen, but mercilessly continues, "Maybe you should. Maybe you should find someone to drag to your Gala who actually likes that sort of thing. Someone who's _good_ at being nice to boring, awful people. Someone who won't embarrass you in front of all those important people that you hate." His voice is thick with sarcasm.

Ravi's fists clench, but the words are still coming, like an avalanche. Tey can't make them stop. "Go find a suit, Ravi, someone like yourself. Go pick someone from your little list, and have fun parading him around like a well-trained dog. Go on and do it, if that's what makes you happy. You might as well enjoy yourself. Hell, we'll both enjoy ourselves more, if I don't have to go with you."

As soon as he says it, he wants to die.

"Christ, Tey." Ravi's voice is flat, empty of inflection. It's his Ambassador-voice, for when he's hiding his emotions. He's never used that voice on Tey before.

Tey can feel a knot start to form in the pit of his stomach. _Is this it?_ he wonders. _Are we finally breaking?_

It always happens. After four months, this... this _thing_ between them has already lasted longer than anything Tey has had before. So he figures that he's about due to fuck things up, any day now.

Ravi sits in silence, stiff and ramrod-straight, like a statue. Tey wishes that he could see his face, and simultaneously is glad that he cannot.

After a minute, Ravi stands abruptly and strides over to the door, wrenches it open, and walks out. He pulls the door shut behind him — not slamming it, no, he's too well-bred for that — but the sound still hits Tey like a slap in the face. The knot in his stomach turns into a boulder, and he feels like he can't swallow. His eyes prickle and burn like he's back in Bargha City, running through the smog.

After a couple of minutes, when Ravi doesn't return, Tey stands up and slowly walks into the bathroom. He might as well have a shower while he waits. If Ravi's going to kick him out, at least he'll be clean for it.

\-----

Tey is just rinsing the soap from his curls when the bathroom door slides open and closed again. He freezes, but Ravi doesn't say anything. After a moment of nerve-wracking silence, Tey twitches aside the shower curtain to see what's going on. When he peeks out, he is treated to the sight of Ravi's slender, wiry brown body, rapidly freeing itself from its clothing.

Tey is too surprised, for once, to enjoy the view. By the time he finds his voice again, Ravi is matter-of-factly climbing into the shower with him, standing and leaning back against the back of the small shower compartment. Tey stares at him, and tries to ignore the droplets of water that run down Ravi's neck. 

Finally, Ravi uncrosses his arms and says, "I don't want to go with someone else."

Tey looks away. _Here comes the guilt trip._

He doesn't trust himself to handle this situation well, right now. He wants to leave; he wants to run, but unless he physically pushes Ravi out of the way, he's trapped here. 

Very clever. 

"If you won't go with me, then I'll just go by myself, and that's okay." Tey looks up, startled. That's not what he was expecting. "I can deal with not having a date. Hell," Ravi smiles self-deprecatingly, "I should be used to it by now."

_Oh, that's just wrong,_ Tey thinks, despite himself. He knows that Ravi isn't very experienced, was too busy to date much before they met, but the fact of it still baffles him. Someone like that shouldn't have to be alone.

"I still don't understand why you don't want to go, though. I just wish that you would tell me the real reason. You can't _actually_ think that you're going to embarrass me."

Tey can feel his anger rising up again, and ruthlessly squashes it back down. _He came back,_ he reminds himself, and tips his head back under the warm water. _He came back. No one's ever done that. The least I can do in return is explain._

Collecting his thoughts, he says, "I do actually think that, and for good reason."

"Look, Rav. I know you don't like to admit it, but I'm not like you, okay? I don't come from a rich background, and proper schools and all; I'm not good with this sort of thing. I hate being stuck in crowds of people that I don't know, or have anything in common with. I hate dressing up, and I hate making smalltalk, and more than anything I hate having to placate fancy, boring rich people. And in my experience, they tend to hate me too."

He looks at Ravi. The younger man's eyes are wide, and very dark. _Beautiful,_ Tey thinks, despite himself. 

"I'm trying to take care of you, okay?" he says. "I don't want to go, because I _would_ be a liability. I get that you want me to be your date because I'm your... boyfriend, or whatever." Tey immediately feels bad for the hesitation, but it's ingrained, self-protective. 

_Never assume. What is true today might be different tomorrow._

"But believe me, it's for the best. You're already having a tough time with these guys, and I'm pretty sure that I would only make it worse if I had to interact with them in any way." He stares at Ravi, willing him to see and understand. 

"I don't care." Ravi's voice is firm and sure.

Tey sighs, and tilts his head under the water again. "You still don't believe me."

"No, I do," Ravi insists. "Well, I do think that you're underestimating yourself, but I really, honestly don't care. I mean it." Ravi slumps against the back of the shower and tips his head back, running a hand through his hair, exposing his neck. "I was walking around in the hallway just now, feeling angry, and I realized something. You want to hear what it is?"

"Sure, go for it."

"I realized, fuck the Su'o." He says it in a deadpan sort of voice, like he's stating the current weather.

_Whoa._

"Fuck the Su'o, and fuck their stupid hidebound culture. Fuck their boneheaded refusal to listen." Ravi takes a step forward, stopping just a few inches away. "I was walking, trying to cool off so I wouldn't say something stupid, and I passed a Su'o woman. A sum'ri, I think. And when sum'r saw me, sum'r looked at me like I was a dog that had escaped from its kennel, or something. And I had sort of an epiphany."

"Playing by the rules isn't working with these guys, and it's never _going_ to work. They're not going to respect me no matter what I do; I hardly even exist, to them. And I decided that I'm done bending over backward to appease them." Ravi wraps his arms around Tey; they slide around his waist, eased by the water. The feel of them sends a pleasant shiver up his spine.

"I want you to go to the Gala with me, and I want you to be yourself while you're there, and say whatever you want to, and be with me, and maybe we'll get to dance or something, and hopefully we'll have some kind of a good time. And if some hidebound asum'rri has a problem with you, asum'r can take it up with the head of your delegation... Which, oh wait, that's _me_. And then I can tell asum'r to suckle on a reclamation pipe."

Setan insults are really interesting. Tey supposes this one is roughly equivalent to that old Barghan standby: "Eat shit and die".

"But if you still don't want to go, like I said, that's okay too," Ravi finishes. "I would really like you to — honestly, the evening will be super boring without you — but it's not worth getting into a big fight over." He presses a light kiss against Tey's chest. "Okay?"

Tey's brain is still stuck a few sentences behind. "You'd do that for me, really? Even if I offended someone important, you'd stick up for me?" Tey asks.

That's a big deal. He knows that it's a big deal. Based on what he's seen in the past four months, Ravi has spent his entire life playing by the rules. For him to risk offense, to talk so casually about breaching protocol...  Well, it's just a big deal, that's all.

"Absolutely, I would," Ravi says, and Tey believes him.

What can he do? He can't turn something like that away.

"...Alright, then," he concedes. "I guess you've got yourself a date." Ravi whoops and punches the air, and Tey laughs, feeling like a weight has lifted.

"I'm _so_ going to have the hottest date at the whole party," Ravi crows, crowding up to Tey and pressing their bodies together.

Tey bends down to kiss him, but then another thought strikes him and he stops. "Do I still have to wear a suit, though?"

Ravi winds his hands into Tey's hair and pulls him down. He presses his lips to Tey's earlobe, and then whispers, "I would really, really like it if you did. I've been thinking about that a lot lately, geting to see you all dressed up like that. I've been looking forward to it, you could say." He moves down to brush his lips against Tey's neck. "I promise, if you do, I'll make it _very_ worth your while."

"Oh, now I see why you want me to go so badly..." Tey trails off into a gasp, as Ravi demonstrates his persuasion skills by sliding down onto his knees and taking Tey into his mouth. Tey leans against the shower wall to support his suddenly boneless legs, and runs one hand through Ravi's short-cropped hair. His remaining anxiety is quickly dissolved by steam and friction, wiped out by Ravi's skillful lips and tongue.

_Not today,_ he thinks, just before he arches back and comes into the warmth of Ravi's mouth.

_Not broken yet, today._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the sexytimes chapter. Just in case anyone wasn't expecting that.
> 
> I guess I should warn, just to be extra cautious. So: this chapter contains light bondage, and a bit of fully consensual D/s-ish behavior.
> 
> Little experiment with POV here. Let me know what you think.
> 
>  
> 
> [soundtrack](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7TSEpH5NHSo)

It's not that Tey isn't hot in his regular clothing. He certainly is. But his style tends toward casual, practical wear; if he's not wearing his shipboard uniform, he's dressed in workout clothing, or sometimes just pajama pants. (I do like the pajama pants.)

There's just something _extra_ to the sight of him tonight, all dressed up in a stylish suit. Extra hot, and also extra distracting.

It might be partly the sheer novelty of the look. It might be partly the fact that he's wearing it for _me_ , just because I asked him to. And it might be partly an awareness of all of the other people here who keep shooting him sideways glances, or sometimes full-on stares.

But it's mostly just the drape of the fine, gunmetal-grey fabric as it falls over his broad shoulders and narrow waist, teasing the faintest outlines of muscle at his stomach and his arms. And also how the trousers, cut slender in the latest style, cling to the backs of his thighs, curve up and over the buttocks, around slightly sharp hipbones, stretched over the groin. And the belt that holds them on, woven of thick black strips of leather, just loose enough around his hips that one could slide two fingers between it and the skin, and pull...

Someone is talking. I really ought to focus. I don't even remember when this new speaker stood up. 

Not that it really matters. Apparently all that's required of me at this so-called Welcoming Gala is to sit here and look polite, while one grey-hair after another delivers an excruciatingly repetitive series of proclamations. We've been here for more than an hour, and they're not even halfway done. 

I carefully push down the urge to yawn, and check my watch. At least this event has an open bar — Tey's over there right now, fetching us both drinks. No one's really paying us any attention. 

My presence here, as on the entire mission so far, seems fairly meaningless. I'm starting to wonder whether my supervisors in the Diplomatic Corps haven't intentionally set me up to fail. I wouldn't be surprised at all if there was some deeper game at hand, if failing in my mission bolstered some faction or another, back home.

Ah, diplomats. You'd be hard-pressed to find a less trustworthy bunch in all of Twelve Systems, including the prison moons. It's just one of the many things that I wasn't expecting, when I chose this career.

I look around the room for Tey, eager for more pleasant distraction. The crowd ebbs and swirls, and then a path clears between myself and the bar. There's Tey, leaning elegantly against a table with two drinks in his hands, speaking to a young woman. I recognize her vaguely from the ship's crew. Part of the science team, I think.

She has her hand resting on Tey's arm.

I can feel my own hands starting to curl into fists. I take in a deep, slow breath, and force them to unclench. It's nothing.

I'm sure it's nothing.

Jealousy is unworthy. I've always believed that. Besides, if Tey wants to flirt with someone else, he's going to do it no matter what I do or say.

If he's starting to get bored, he's going to get bored no matter what I do or say.

The woman giggles extravagantly and slides her hand up Tey's arm, resting it on his shoulder. She leans close and whispers something in his ear. It's an obvious flirtation.

I can't watch this anymore.

I rise from my seat and make my way through the crowd, doing my best to move quietly, not to draw attention. For once, the Su'o tendency to ignore me might work in my advantage.

Jealousy is unworthy. I really do believe that. But, dammit... That's _my_ boyfriend. I should be the one with my hand on his arm; I should be the one whispering in his ear.

Clearly I have been remiss in my duties.

Halfway to the bar, I squeeze past a knot of Su'o and almost run into Tey, who's heading back toward our seats. The woman is nowhere to be seen. He looks at me and raises an eyebrow, surprised; I grab his elbow and steer him toward one of the small side doors that lead out of the grand ballroom.

Sometime between my seat and here, I've thought of a brilliant, terrifying idea.

See, here's the thing: I know full well that I'm a boring person. I really do. I work too hard, and I've never had a reason not to play by the rules, and I'm fascinated by things that most people find dull. Add to that my tendency to present a calm, unemotional exterior... well. You get the picture.

Tey's not like me. He's charismatic, exciting — the kind of person who has adventures. He's done things already that I can't even dream of. I can't help but think he's bound to get bored, and move on. 

I mean, he's been with so many people, and I... haven't. Who am I to think that I'll be the big exception?

But I'll be damned if I'm not going to do everything in my power to push that day off, for as long as I can. And right now, I think I can do something that isn't boring. Something that breaks the rules.

It's not like the Su'o will notice.

I push open the heavy wooden doors, and lead him out into the hallway. He looks at me, confused; I press a finger to my lips, signaling silence, and beckon him to follow. On the stairs, he catches up with me and takes my hand in his, shooting me a heated look that makes my heart rate jump a little. He seems to be on the same wavelength.

When we reach my hotel room, I pull him inside and push the door shut. There's no lock, unfortunately, but right now I'm willing to take the risk.

Before Tey can say anything, I push him firmly against the door and take him in a kiss. I aim to go slowly, teasing, with light pressure, but he surges forward and slides his tongue into my mouth. 

I pull back, and press him against the door just a little bit harder. "No. Let me," I say. My voice sounds strange to me, low and rougher than normal. Tey's sharp inhale and dark eyes signal his agreement. 

I lean forward again and kiss him forever, slowly, just the way I want. His whole body strains forward; I can tell that he wants to grab me and pull me up against him, but he does not. When I've finally had my fill, we cling together for a moment, both of us shaky on our feet.

"Are you sure this is okay?" he asks.

"It'll have to be." I hope I sound as definitive as I feel.

I reach up and loosen Tey's dark blue tie, carefully unwinding it from around his neck. Then I have a brilliant idea.

"Trust me?"

He nods, immediately. I smile and loop the tie around his head, gathering the ends in a loose but secure knot. I adjust the edges, making sure that it fully covers his eyes, that he can't cheat and peak out around the edges.

"Okay?" He nods again. Through all of our clothing, I can feel his cock twitch against me.

Interesting.

Thus blindfolded, I take his hands and lead him over to the bed. The bed in here is almost like a little room, surrounded on all sides by tall, carved wooden panels that screen it off from the rest of the room. There's an opening at the foot to allow entry, and a window toward the bedside table. I guide Tey to the opening, and push him down onto the mattress. He sprawls out on his back, elegant and graceful even in his disarray. Before he can move, I climb in and lie on top of him.

He curls an arm around my waist, tries to slide a hand into the waistband of my pants; I catch both of his hands, and guide them to my tie instead. He struggles to undo it, working blindly at the knot, as I discard my jacket and vest.

When he finally gets the tie unknotted, I grab both of his wrists and push them up over his head, guiding his hands to the headboard. He goes with it, curling his fingers into the wooden screen. I take my tie, which is the pale blue of an Earth-atmosphere sky, and wind it around his wrists as many times as it will go. I tie the ends onto the screen with a good, solid knot, fixing his hands in that position.

I sit back on my knees, admiring the view. There's Tey, all sprawled out beneath me, bright blue cloth wound against his skin, covering his eyes, keeping him from moving. Head thrown back, lips parted, breathing heavily, with his erection quite obviously pushing up the fabric of his trousers. Letting me.

Letting _me_.

This vision sends a spark like electricity through my body, and my thighs clench against his where I kneel over him. He must feel it — maybe the blindfold makes him more sensitive to touch — because he arches his back and pushes his hips up, moaning, blindly seeking friction. But I'm not quite ready to give it to him, yet.

I slide forward and unbutton his shirt, taking my time, lingering over each button. Every time my fingers brush against his skin, he shudders and makes a little noise. He turns his head to the side, like maybe he's embarrassed to be making such a blatant display, but there's nothing that he can do about it.

(Of course that's not true: he could tell me to stop. He's not going to do that, though.)

I push the edges of the shirt aside with light touches, admiring the strip of smooth, dark chest that it reveals. I brush against one of his nipples, and he moans rather loudly. I smile, and do it again.

This isn't boring, at all.

By this point his pants are pulled so tight at the groin, the bulge of his cock straining against them, that I fear they might split a seam. I take pity and unclasp his belt, sliding the tips of my fingers against the sensitive skin of his belly. I bend down and nip at the skin as I unwind the belt from its loops and pull it out from around him. Against the light scrape of my teeth, he makes a noise that's half a curse, half an incoherent moan.

In one quick movement I strip his pants and underwear off, and dump them on the floor. His cock, released from its nest of restrictive fabric, springs up against his stomach, all fat and flushed with blood. Gorgeous. There's a tiny drop of liquid gleaming at the tip, and as I watch it spills over, shining and sliding over the skin of the head before dropping onto his stomach.

I'm starting to feel pretty uncomfortable myself, so I unfasten my own belt and free myself from the confines of my trousers. It's tempting, very tempting, to just let myself fall forward and rut against him like an animal, like my hips want to, thrusting and heaving until both of us come.

So very tempting. 

But the rough leather of the belt in my hand gives me another idea. The texture of it is so different from the slippery silk ties, the weight of it so much heavier than even the thickest fabric. I like the contrast of it, the opposite sensations. 

I think Tey will like them, too.

Leaning forward, I take one of his ankles in my hand and guide it up and outward, bending his leg a little at the knee, pulling his foot all the way to the side of the bed. Taking my belt, I wrap it several times around the ankle, making a wide cuff. Then I pull both ends of the belt through the screen and and clasp them together, leaving Tey with his leg turned to the side and lifted. I do the same thing with his own belt, on the other side.

The result is that Tey's legs are spread wide, feet raised, knees bent, ankles solidly lashed to the bed-screen, perfectly framing his cock and the twin globes of his rounded, perfect ass. It's indescribable, really.

It's the most beautiful thing that I've ever seen.

Here's a thing that I will never admit: I write poetry. It's embarrassing, really, and I would sooner die than show a word of it to any living soul. Nonetheless, I have in my possession thirteen point six five notebooks, at present count, all of them full of poems that I have written. The poems range in quality from bad to mediocre, and cover all sorts of topics. I started the first one when I was seven.

But this? Tey, here, now, pushing up against the edges of his skin, muscles tensed, shivering with sheer arousal, naked, legs spread, wrists and ankles bound, thrusting his hips up into my touches? 

_This_ is poetry, without a single word.

The sight is just too tempting to resist any longer. I fall forward, still half-clothed with my pants around my thighs, and reach my arm out to grope in the bureau for the lube.

Poor planning, that. I should have had it beforehand.

Finally my hand closes around the plastic tube. I snatch it up, and squeeze out a bunch onto my palm. Most of it I use to generously coat the fingers of my left hand; the rest, I smear over my right palm. I slide my hand down his cock from tip to base, slicking up the fever-hot skin, and simultaneously tease my index finger around his puckered opening, slowly wiggling it inside. He moan, tosses his head, and opens for me easily.

We haven't exactly done this before, not just like this. When we started out, Tey always topped because he had more experience, by a rather shamefully large factor. After that... well, I certainly didn't mind it, and it just sort of became the thing we did. 

Today, though, I'm not being boring.

I take my time with it, opening him up while stroking him slowly — just fast enough to keep the edge on, but too slow to bring him to orgasm. I've had a few months to study his faces and his noises; I know when to pull back, when to take my hand away for a second, how to keep him close but not _too_ close. Now I put all of that to use. His body clenches around my fingers like it wants to keep them, and every breath he takes brings another broken cry.

The sight of him, the sound of him, wordlessly pleading... It affects me. I don't feel like myself anymore. Not the ambassador, not boring Ravi Kesen — all of that falls away. I feel like I'm acting on pure instinct, like some kind of animal, a hunter, running down his prey. It's that same intense hunger that the predator might feel, that same single-minded focus — but fueled by love, instead of violence. 

Or maybe, at this stage, love and violence are the same.

I don't know, I know nothing except for what's beneath me, what's around me, hard and soft and moving, struggling and then sliding and then pushing deep inside. Warmth, soft skin, hard muscle, strength and weakness all together. Wordless cries that one or both of us are making — I can't tell the difference in our voices, anymore. I can't tell where I end, where Tey begins, which movements I make and which ones belong to him.

I take my hands off his cock and brace myself, my lighter skin against his darker, my hands wrapped around his thighs, maybe gripping hard enough to leave small bruises. I push, thrust, _fuck_. I understand what fucking means, now. 

It means letting go of my senses and falling headfirst into this senseless, beautiful, loving-violent implosion. 

My muscles clench, poised to propel me over that final peak; I grit my teeth and force them back. He will come first; there is no other option. I move my hand back to his cock, make a fist around the shaft, watch as it glides over the head with every stroke. My skin, his skin. I pump faster, once, twice, fast and hard. He gives a little, helpless wail, one I recognize. It means that he's very close.

I fall forward, press in as deep as I can, and command, "Come for me." 

He does.

His entire body convulses, straining against the ties and belts that bind him. His orgasm pulses again and again, coming over my hand, spurting onto his stomach. He cries out, so loudly that anyone in the hallway must be able to hear us, but I can't bring myself to care.

I squeeze my eyes shut and follow, a second later.

(This part is nonverbal. I won't even try.)

\-----

After a few minutes or seconds, or something in between, my brain kicks back online. I find myself sprawled on top of Tey, my face against his chest, both of us sweat-damp and sticky. He seems pretty knocked-out, still. (I can't lie; I feel a burst of warm pride about that. I've never made him come like that before.)

I slide up his body and kiss him lightly, just a brush of lips on lips. I admire how beautiful he looks, all sweaty and disheveled, with his curls all mussed and pushed about by the blindfold. Gorgeous.

Mine.

"Hey, Tey?" He stirs, a little. "I'm going to untie you now, alright?"

He nods. It seems that speech is still beyond him.

I sit back and tackle the belts that are holding his legs apart. I untangle the ends from where they're woven through the screen, and then support each ankle as I unwrap the belt around it. I ease his legs down, one and then the other; he sighs happily and sprawls them out, taking up the whole bed, still high and blissed-out on endorphins.

I can't resist the urge to leave the ties on him a bit longer. They're not as potentially uncomfortable as the belts, and he just looks so damn gorgeous with that blue silk around his skin. So I go to the washroom and clean myself up quickly, then I fetch a warm towel and go back to the bed. I wipe Tey's body down, smiling as he hums contentedly into the soft, clean fabric. When we're both presentable, I refasten my own belt and then dress him, sliding pants over his legs and buttoning his shirt.

Fully clothed or naked; I'll take him either way. Tied up or free, on top or on bottom, bossing me around like he does or willingly submitting — either way, I want more, always.

It's really quite a mess, how much I love him.

Lost in these thoughts, I reach up to untie his hands. My fingers close around the fabric —

Someone bangs loudly upon the room door. I jump, and freeze. 

There comes a loud, urgent voice, speaking in Su'onni. "Ambassador Kesen?" it demands. "Are you in there?"

I can't help it: I panic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So where does this fandom hang out? Tumblr, LiveJournal, somewhere else? Somebody tell me; I wanna join the party.


	3. Chapter 3

Tey drifts on a sea on endorphins, wrapped up in a pleasant daze. He can't remember the last time he felt so perfectly safe. There's no responsibility, no danger — nothing right this instant that he has to go and do. Rav will take care of it. Rav will take care of _him_. 

Every muscle in his body is relaxed, every neuron awash with happy chemicals. He feels good. No, strike that, he feels _amazing_.

Who knew that Ravi had it in him?

Fabric slides against his leg, and he lifts it cooperatively, helping Ravi put his trousers back on. Tey wishes that they could stay naked, stay right here in this nest of a bed, and just hang on to one another for awhile. But of course, duty calls, and who knows how long they've been up here already?

Still, though...

Ravi stretches across him to untie his hands, and Tey can feel Ravi's chest pressed against his own. He begins to contemplate his chances of luring Ravi into another round.

Out of nowhere, there's a loud banging from the door. "Ambassador Kesen? Are you in there?" It has to be a guard, probably one assigned to keep an eye on Ravi.

Adrenaline shoots through Tey's body, chasing away the blissful post-coital haze. He doesn't need to see Ravi to know that he'll be panicked. Despite Ravi's reassurances, which Tey doesn't doubt at all, neither of them actually _wants_ to get in trouble. 

For the Ambassador, getting caught in bed with a half-naked, tied-up man while he's supposed to be attending an official occasion would definitely cause a scandal. It might even put the last nail in the coffin of Ravi's ability to be an effective negotiator. So that can't happen.

Luckily, this is far from the trickiest situation that Tey's ever had to lie his way out of.

The trick, he thinks, is not to let yourself plan. Once you stop to make a plan, it's already too late. The trick is to just open your mouth and let the bullshit flow without conscious intervention, direct from the subconscious. Meanwhile, the rest of the brain can be hard at work trying to figure out how to turn the situation to your advantage.

Tey opens his mouth, and what comes out is a whisper, aimed at Ravi. "Take my handbows!"

He can feel his boyfriend unfreeze. "Huh?"

"No time!" Tey grits out. "Take them, cock them, and point them at me! Do it!" He hopes desperately that Ravi was paying attention when Ravi showed him how to operate the little weapons. A millisecond later, fingers scrabble at the thick bracelets around his wrists, unsnapping the folded crossbows and pulling them free. There's just enough time for Tey to hear the faint, familiar click of the mechanism as it unlatches, and then the twanging note of the polymer wires, as they're suddenly brought under high tension. 

Almost simultaneously, the room door crashes open, and he hears the sounds of someone large clattering into the room. Tey opens his mouth again, and prays for inspiration. 

"I confess!" he hollers, twisting in his bonds. It doesn't take much acting to sound scared. "I confess! Don't shoot me! It's true, I was going to kidnap you, but I wasn't going to hurt anyone! I was just following orders, I don't know anything! Oh, please don't shoot me..."

_Seriously, please don't shoot me,_ he thinks. It would be a very bad thing if Ravi startled and accidentally triggered the firing mechanism. But no metal bolt comes slamming through his chest, so Tey lets his mouth run on while he ponders the situation.

Ravi will be between him and the guard, so the guard won't be able to get a very good look at him. He'll only be able to tell that there's a person there, tied up to the bed, and the most general details of his shape and size. So there's a chance, if they can just get the guard to leave them...

"What's going on here?" the guard demands. "Ambassador, are you injured?" To his credit, the man sounds genuinely concerned. Ravi moves, probably twisting around to look at the guard. He says something in Su'onni, harsh and demanding. Probably an insult; Tey has an instinct for those, in any tongue.

The Ambassador switches back into Lingua. "...no thanks to you and your incompetent fellows," he continues.

_Praise Loki,_ Tey thinks. _He gets it. He's playing along._ And Ravi has an advantage that Tey has never had: the ability to cause a major intergalactic incident, if he so chooses.

"I have just had to fend off this... this _criminal_ , all by myself, with no help from any of you _[harsh-sounding words in Su'onni]_. I very well might have been killed, if I weren't alert and able to defend myself." 

Tey's never heard Ravi sound quite like this before. His voice is calm, dead calm, but there's an undercurrent to it of solid steel and each word is edged with razorblades. The Ambassador sounds calm in the way that a black hole is calm, his voice promising the same utter destruction to anyone unfortunate enough to cross him.

Rav's just full of surprises, today.

The guard seems to feel it too. "My sincerest apologies, Ambassador," he stutters. Tey is willing to bet that he just took a step backward. "I'll take this criminal into custody immediately," he blusters. "Don't you worry, sir, we'll make sure that everything is taken care of."

_Ohshit._ That would fall under the heading of Definitely Not Good. Worse, Tey's drawing a blank on in-character things to say that might avert it.

Luckily, Ravi steps in once again. "You will do nothing of the sort," he orders coldly. "You think I'm going to just hand over my prisoner to _you_ , so that you can let him escape or otherwise bungle this up? For that matter, how do I know that you're not working with him? I will absolutely not!"

The guard makes a sound like someone preparing to argue, and then immediately reconsidering. Ravi presses his advantage. "I insist that you fetch General Karci, at once. I will not give this man into any but his own personal custody."

"But, sir, the General is..."

"I. Don't. Care." Each word is bitten off cleanly; Tey fancies that he can hear the toothmarks. "Go!" 

There's no response but the sound of retreating footsteps.

_I love you,_ Tey thinks. _Holy fuck, I **love** you, you brilliant, evil bastard._

Immediately Ravi's hands are around Tey's wrists, working at the knot. Tey yanks his hands free as soon as there's some slack, and pushes the other tie off of his eyes, blinking at the light. "How long do we have?" he asks, heart racing.

"Maybe 5 minutes," Ravi says. "Run!"

"Wait, no! I can't just — we have to make it a good story. If it's a good enough story, they won't ask too many questions. Give me those..." He snatches the cocked handbows away from Ravi, as carefully as he can. He takes just a second to cradle them, the familiar weight and shape, and feels a slight pang of regret. 

He can make new ones, of course. That's not really the point.

He points one of them at the headboard, and pulls the trigger. The bolt slams through the wooden screen, leaving behind a large hole edged in jagged splinters, and embeds itself somewhere deep in the wall behind. He tosses the bow off to the side, and it slides beneath a table.

Tey carefully thumbs the mechanism of the other bow to disarm it, and pops the bolt out of its cradle into his hand. Pivoting, he slams the bolt through the loose edge of Ravi's jacket and into the bedpost behind, as hard as he can. Ravi's eyes go wide and his breath hitches, but Tey is proud that the kid doesn't jump or even shout. He just watches.

"We struggled," Tey says. "You were distracted by the guard, and I took advantage. I tried to kick the bow out of your hand. Acting on reflex, you shot at me, but narrowly missed. I pulled free of my bonds, and in the struggle I grabbed the other bow away from you. It fired, but you dodged and the bolt went through the edge of your jacket. Pull away," he instructs. Ravi struggles until a large piece of his jacket rips off, leaving a tattered, gaping hole but freeing him from the bedpost.

Tey crushes and twists the disarmed bow until the wood snaps and the wire tangles, as if it were the subject of a struggle. He tosses it aside.

"You fought back, but without your weapons, I was stronger," he narrates, reaching through the hole in Ravi's jacket to pull out his sleeve-knife. He stabs it into the mattress, feeling a pang of regret at harming such a lovely surface.

"Punch me," Ravi says, and Tey is brought up short.

"What? No!" 

"Yes! There's no time, punch me! You have to knock me out, otherwise the escape will seem implausible! I wouldn't let a real kidnapper just get away..."

_No, you wouldn't, would you,_ Tey thinks. He draws his arm back... and stops. 

He knows that Ravi's right, knows that it's the only way. But Tey tries to imagine it — driving his fist into Ravi's face, hard enough to knock him out — and he just can't see it. He can't make himself do it.

Frantically he looks around the room. There must be something...

His eyes alight on the small wooden wardrobe, currently hanging open. It's almost person-height, a few feet wide and deep, with a palm-lock built into the solid door. The lock will have already been set to Ravi's hand-print. 

"Come on!" Tey says, grabbing Ravi and hustling him over to the wardrobe. Ravi nods, and steps into the wooden box. "I pushed you in and slammed the door, and then you heard me run away," Tey says. "Okay?"

"Okay."

Tey presses his face to Ravi's neck for just a second. That blissful, carefree peace of just a few moments ago seems very far away, now. He makes himself pull back and slams the door shut, listening for the beep as the palm-lock engages.

Tey takes three steps backward, and surveys the room. Frowning, he grabs the bottle of lube from where it's lying on the bed, and quickly stows it in the bureau. Then he checks himself in the mirror, reties his tie, straightens his jacket, and runs a hand through his currently rather hopeless mop of curls. He steps out into the hallway, ignoring a certain soreness, and pulls the door shut silently behind him.

Fortunately, Tey is gifted with both a memory for layouts, and a penchant for exploring. He's already walked every hallway on the floor, earlier this evening. So he knows that there are two staircases and one lift tube going up, with three lateral hallways joining them to the two major corridors that contain the rooms. 

Tey walks briskly, avoiding any temptation to run. He turns left, walks, and turns again. He's gambling that Karci will be smart enough to take the closer, eastern stairwell; his goal is to be discovered walking toward the eastern corridor from the direction of the western stairwell. 

Luck smiles upon Tey, and he hits his timing right on the nose. He strolls round the corner into the eastern corridor just as a party of five guards, with General Karci at their head, spills out of the stairwell. All of the guards turn, and eye him with suspicion.

_And here we go._ This is the first real test of Tey's scheme. If the guards accept his story, all is well; if they treat him like a suspect, that's a very bad sign.

"Hey there, excuse me," he says, playing up his Barghan accent a little. "Have any of you guys seen Rav– um, the Twelve Systems Ambassador? I went to fetch us drinks, and now I can't find him in the ballroom." (Each of these statements is, strictly speaking, true.)

Karci's brow lowers even further. His face looks red enough to burst into flame. "You are the... companion?" he demands.

"Um, sure," Tey says, "I guess so." Then he can't resist adding, "If by that, you mean his boyfriend."

"Very well. Follow!" The general beckons rudely, imperiously, but he doesn't seem to question Tey's story at all. Tey smiles innocently at him and falls in with the group, walking behind the guards.

He notices that all of them are standing a little distance away from one man, like they don't want to be seen near him. Tey would put money on that man being the guard assigned to Ravi, and probably the one who entered their room as well. He can't help but feel a small twinge of vindictive satisfaction. 

_That's what you get for ruining my afterglow._

When the General slams the room door open, the bed is torn up, obviously the site of a fierce struggle. Tey carefully displays an appropriate level of distress. Then loud thumps and muffled cries start coming from the wardrobe, and the party rushes over. The General sends one of his men for a lock-breaker. While they're waiting, Tey plays the part of a distraught boyfriend to the hilt, switching between fussing over Ravi, and berating the General for allowing this to happen.

Giving that pompous jackass a piece of his mind is the second-best thing that Tey has done all day. 

\------

**A few days later**

"... and 5 guards patrolling the galleries at all times." General Karci presses something off-camera, and 5 more red dots light up on the map, joining the other clusters arrayed across the blueprint. "Does this meet with your approval, Ambassador?" He looks sour as he says it, like he's having to grit his teeth and force the words out. He still won't look at me, but that doesn't matter.

"The galleries are a vulnerable point," I say, calmly folding my hands together. "I would prefer to have ten guards there, six of them moving around in a random pattern, the other four posted as stationary lookouts." Honestly, five would probably be sufficient, but I'll be damned if I'm not going to press my advantage. (Besides, I can just _feel_ Tey's smirk every time I contradict Karci, though he's being quite good about not laughing out loud.) 

It seems that my so-called "kidnapping" and dramatic "escape" — or perhaps the intergalactic incident it almost caused — has really gotten the attention of the Su'o government, leading them to triple the security for the negotiations. Meanwhile, Tey's magnificent story has made me into a bit of a celebrity among the Su'o. It seems that foreseeing the possibility of a security incident, going armed in preparation, and then successfully fending off an attacker, capturing him, tying him up, and attempting to interrogate him, all reflects rather well on me as a person. 

Suddenly, everyone who once ignored me now wants to shake my hand, and maybe get a picture.

The manhunt, of course, is ongoing. I have been fully cooperative with the authorities, giving them a detailed description of the facial features of a man who looks nothing at all like Tey Alonssou. They, in turn, have been extremely grateful for my patience with their ongoing lack of results. (Luckily, all that the poor guard could report was that the man was slender and dark-skinned — which, honestly, could describe half of the people on this planet.)

So, to sum up: The Su'o have increased security, General Karci was embarrassed, and my reputation among the Su'o was greatly increased. All because I snuck off to have sex with my boyfriend, and then got caught. 

Really, all of this is Tey's fault.

He seems happier lately, too. These past few days he's been rather cuddly, which is a side of him that I've never seen before, and also quite sexually voracious, which is not. It seems that he liked what we did so much that he wants to do it again, and again, and again. Between that and all of the interviews, meetings, statements, and negotiations, I'm a little bit exhausted.

Karci finally winds down, and disconnects from the call. I move to disconnect, but Admiral Rogers stops me.

"Ambassador," he says. "How are you holding up? Any... lingering issues from your attack?" There's a strange tone in the Admiral's voice, but I can't quite figure out what it means. 

Ever since the night of the Gala, Rogers keeps giving me this _look_. It's a very strange look; if I didn't know better, I'd say he was trying not to laugh. That doesn't make any sense, though.

"No, sir," I say. "Well, I'm rather tired, but that's all. I think I'm just, you know, making up for a couple of sleepless nights there."

"I'll bet you are." The Admiral's voice reveals nothing. "Well, I'll let you get back to it, then." He nods, and is that a smile quirking around the edges of his lips?

_What does he know?_

Rogers disconnects, and the screen goes blank. I push back the chair and look around to where Tey is lying, on the bed which is carefully positioned outside the camera's field of view.

Apparently at some point during the meeting, Tey decided it was time to go ahead and take all of his clothes off. All, that is, except for a blue tie knotted loosely around his neck. (I think it might be mine.)

Suddenly I feel much less tired, and Admiral Rogers is immediately forgotten. Tey smiles at me, and fingers the tie suggestively. I stand, and start walking slowly toward the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a Tumblr, and [here it is](http://plotdotoh.tumblr.com/). I'm not very good at Tumblr fandom, though, so I'll probably just write about random stuff. If that doesn't sound super boring, feel free to stop by and say hi.
> 
> Work is currently devouring my brain and my life, so I might not be writing very much for awhile. *sincere regret*


End file.
